


Perfect Little Soup Boy

by PadawanRyan



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Based on a Tumblr Post, Fluff, Getting Together, Honestly this is pretty cute, M/M, Patrick does NOT like soup, Seamless Delivery, Which is based on a tweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:26:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23549131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PadawanRyan/pseuds/PadawanRyan
Summary: “Someone keeps delivering soup to my house with a note that says “soup for my perfect little soup boy”,”he typed into the Crime & Safety page.“I appreciate the free food but I don’t like soup. Please stop this.”There, it was done. He wouldn’t have to worry about it again and maybe this would finally stop.Except, a few days later when he was at work, his coworker Joe turned to him with his phone in hand and said, “Dude, you’ve got to see this!”
Relationships: Patrick Stump/Pete Wentz
Comments: 10
Kudos: 55





	Perfect Little Soup Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I saw a screencap of [this tweet of Pete's](https://twitter.com/petewentz/status/1060639707606900736) on [Tumblr](https://falloutboyfan18.tumblr.com/post/614788156598927360/can-someone-please-send-pete-soup-lol-hes-trying) last night and immediately, I could imagine this as a fanfic where Patrick was the one who had written the post and Pete was the one who was sending him soup — and I commented that on the post, and immediately after having commented that, I started to think that it wouldn't have to be very long and I could do something cute with it. So, I made the promise that _perhaps_ I would write it the next day if I felt inspired.
> 
> And now it's the next day. And I felt inspired. So here is the result! This is for [falloutboyfan18](http://falloutboyfan18.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr.

It happened _again_.

This was the third time this week _alone_ and probably the dozenth time in the past month.

It was starting to get a little annoying. Patrick didn’t even _like_ soup. Sure, he could appreciate the free food, especially when his minimum wage job at the record store didn’t provide a decent enough income for more than the bare necessities, but this was starting to get… _weird_. About a dozen times throughout the past month, someone had been having Seamless soup delivered to his house – always the same vegetable soup from the same restaurant – and even the delivery person was starting to doubt Patrick’s innocence when he claimed that he hadn’t ordered it. More often than not, it was same delivery person.

So, he would accept the soup and put it in the fridge and then _finally_ , the next day when he was desperate, he would choke it down and try not to gag.

Look, he wasn’t going to let it go to waste — not when he struggled enough to feed himself on a regular basis!

But enough was enough. Maybe this person had the wrong address and the person who was really _meant_ to receive the soup had been starving multiple times a week — Patrick couldn’t let some random stranger starve just because someone kept sending the soup to him by mistake! So, since the delivery person would regularly ignore him when he insisted the soup was _not for him_ , he was going to have to resort to more drastic measures. He wouldn’t go call Seamless himself unless absolutely necessary – in no way did he want to be the disgruntled male version of a “Karen” – but maybe he could leave a review somewhere online.

Of course, it would have made much more sense to leave a review on the Seamless app where maybe his soup provider would actually _see_ it.

But instead, he figured that he’d open up a local app and throw it into the “Crime & Safety” category where people could report crimes or threats to public safety, because maybe this _was_ a threat to public safety. What if this person thought he was allergic and was trying to poison him? And if his other assumption was true, wasn’t a starving person’s safety at risk? Patrick was sometimes starving too but he had a job and a means of obtaining food, even if it wasn’t always particularly stable — this person might be _seriously_ starving!

_“Someone keeps delivering soup to my house with a note that says “soup for my perfect little soup boy”,”_ he typed into the Crime & Safety page. _“I appreciate the free food but I don’t like soup. Please stop this.”_

There, it was done. He wouldn’t have to worry about it again and _maybe_ this would finally stop.

Except, a few days later when he was at work, his coworker Joe turned to him with his phone in hand and said, “Dude, you’ve got to see this!”

And sure enough, right there on the screen, was a screencap of his Crime & Safety post about the soup.

However, the screencap was not alone. It was attached to a tweet, and Patrick _knew_ that face. It wasn’t someone he knew personally – he wouldn’t even have known the name if someone had told him only that – but it was the face that haunted his dreams for the past couple months. _Pete Wentz_ — now that he had a name to put to the face, he was definitely doomed. Because now not only did he have the man’s Twitter at his disposal, since the man had _tweeted_ his Crime & Safety post, but he could look him up _anywhere_. Patrick knew that eventually he might get desperate enough to stalk the man online and torture himself because nobody that hot would _ever_ want someone like him.

“What is this?” Patrick asked Joe, deciding to feign ignorance about the whole situation.

“Someone posted this on the local app,” Joe explained. “Who the hell sends someone _soup_?”

Yeah, that’s what Patrick had been asking himself for weeks. “I dunno, man. Who’s this dude, though? The guy who tweeted it?”

“Oh, that’s my buddy Pete. He plays in Arma Angelus? You’ve seen him before.”

Interestingly, that was not where Patrick was recognizing the face from, but now that Joe brought it to his attention, Pete _was_ in Arma Angelus. They hadn’t seen the band play in a while, considering how infrequently he could afford to go to even shitty local shows these days – Patrick probably would have connected those dots had he seen them play more recently – but he could see that face onstage, screaming into a microphone. Okay, so Pete was a musician, albeit – as far as Patrick remembered – a really _bad_ one.

But where Patrick had seen him before was _actually_ in a restaurant — the restaurant that the soup comes from, if he thinks about it. Pete was this absolutely _gorgeous_ delivery person for Seamless, where Patrick had ordered soup for his ailing grandmother when nobody else was available. What a cliché, right? He does a good deed for grandma when she’s not well, he meets a gorgeous and _way out of his league_ delivery person, and then they never see each other again while Patrick pines from afar without even knowing his name? He supposed it was even more hallmark that the dude ended up being exactly his type: a musician.

“But what…” Patrick began, not sure what to say. “What’s he saying here?”

“Oh, I guess he’s the soup guy? I dunno, man. Pete’s a joker, he probably saw this and had a good laugh.”

Patrick would like to believe it was a joke, but somehow all the dots were connecting.

Pete was not Patrick’s usual delivery person, but that would just make it all too obvious, right? But Pete knew two things about Patrick: that he had ordered vegetable soup from this particular restaurant at one point in time, and most importantly, _Patrick’s address_. That coupled with Pete’s comment on the tweet – _“I’m trying to be a perfect little soup boy_ 🙇 _”_ – spelled it all out for Patrick: Pete Wentz was his mysterious soup provider. This was not a mistake, this was not a case of someone sending soup to the wrong house, but rather someone was legitimately trying to ensure Patrick got more of the same item he ordered one single time.

The only thing Patrick couldn’t figure out was whether or not it was a joke.

So, Patrick left the situation alone and it seemed like his Crime & Safety post _had_ worked – he hadn’t received any soup during the following week.

He hadn’t received any the week after, either. And while he was glad that it had _finally_ stopped, he was feeling…empty. It was as though waiting for the soup about three times a week gave him something to look forward to, even if he didn’t particularly enjoy it.

Pete had listened to him, but Patrick wasn’t quite sure anymore that he wanted that.

He also noticed some things about Pete while stalking him on social media during those following couple weeks. Firstly, that Pete had been part of many bands for many years and that Arma Angelus was far from the worst of them — though it was also far from the best. Pete had a blog where he posted a myriad of random thoughts, but none of them were particularly _coherent_. However, the poetic way in which he wrote those thoughts inspired melodies in Patrick’s head, and before he knew it, he was writing music with Pete’s words. Even though he didn’t really actually _know_ Pete.

Patrick was already infatuated with the man after he had delivered his grandma’s soup that one day, but now he felt like he was actually falling in love with him.

Even though _they didn’t even know one another_.

That was when Patrick decided he was going to do something about it and opened up Seamless on his phone.

Look, he wasn’t getting himself vegetable soup – he had already made it perfectly clear on the Crime & Safety post that he _didn’t like soup_ – but that didn’t mean he couldn’t order from somewhere else, right? Pete didn’t work for the restaurant, he worked for Seamless, so Pete could easily deliver his order from another restaurant. So, Patrick found a listing for a burger restaurant that he liked and ordered himself a veggie burger and some dessert – if he was spending money he couldn’t afford to spend on delivery, he was going all out – and in the delivery instructions, he wrote _“plz send pete if hes available.”_

And then he sat back on the couch, anxious, and waited. With his luck, Pete probably wasn’t going to be available.

God, what the hell was he getting himself into?

It was another forty minutes or so before there was a knock on his door. Taking a deep breath and bracing himself for what could possibly be the worst and more awkward social interaction of his life, Patrick made his way toward the door. Sure enough, when he opened the door – not even checking through the view hole first because he didn’t want to psych himself out – there was Pete standing on the other side, an enchanting smile on his face. If Pete was as nervous as Patrick, he _certainly_ wasn’t showing it.

“Umm…hi,” Patrick said awkwardly. Oh boy, this was going to be a _disaster_.

“Hey!” Pete didn’t sound like he was angry at Patrick, at least. “You ordered from Seamless?”

“Yes. I…yes. I don’t like soup!” he blurted out. God, he was going to have to hide in his house for the rest of his life. Pete just blinked at him. “I don’t like soup,” he began again, “but I do like burgers, so uhh…thanks?”

“Look, I’m sorry, man,” Pete explained, “but I liked you and I just wanted to do something nice for you.”

Patrick nodded. “I appreciate it. But I just…don’t like soup. It was for my grandma.”

“Fuck, I am so sorry! I really should have asked first, but I don’t exactly think about these things and I act before I even know it and then—”

This time Patrick was the one acting before thinking but Pete just sounded so apologetic and so _amazing_ and he couldn’t help it: he kissed him. Pete was frozen for a moment beneath his lips and Patrick was sure that this was where the night was ending, where Pete would push him away and disappear and leave him with nothing more than a veggie burger he technically couldn’t afford, but then Pete’s mouth began to move. His lips parted and suddenly Patrick could feel _Pete’s tongue_ and, well.

This definitely wasn’t what Patrick expected but he was _floating_ – figuratively, of course – and if he dropped dead right that second, he would die happy.

When Pete finally pulled back, he was looking at Patrick with wonder in his face, as though Patrick was the greatest thing he had ever seen. Never had Patrick ever seen a look like that directed at him, especially from such a gorgeous man as Pete. Before Patrick could even think about what to say – what _could_ you say to an expression like that? – Pete leaned in and returned Patrick’s kiss hungrily, putting his one free hand behind Patrick’s head and holding him there so that he couldn’t move away. Patrick kissed back just as fervently — there was nothing more he wanted to do with his life than just kiss Pete _all the time_.

Patrick was the one to pull back this time and gaze wonder upon Pete. How was this man even real?

“I like you,” Pete began. “I was enraptured the moment I saw you. I couldn’t stop thinking about you so eventually I figured that maybe I’d send you soup and you’d be happy and when I finally did come clean you wouldn’t think I was creepy but _romantic_ and—”

Patrick cut him off. “I like you too. I’ve been thinking about you for months now. I didn’t even know your name. I never thought I’d see you again.”

“How did you figure it out?” the delivery man asked.

“Well, your tweet. My friend Joe follows you and like, I noticed that you stopped—”

“I never wanted to be a bother—”

“—but then I realized that I missed it? And I was stalking your blog and—”

“Wait,” Pete cut in, “you were stalking my blog?”

God, this was the moment Pete was going to run away, wasn’t it? Pete had apparently been so nervous about _Patrick_ thinking he was creepy that it never occurred to him that maybe _Patrick_ was the creepy one all along. This was it, he should just apologize and take his food and close the door behind him and put all of this in the past as he figured out how to work the cash at the record store from home. He could work from home, right? Retail workers could do that? However, Patrick figured that he _at least_ owed Pete an explanation first.

“I wanted to know you, you know? And your Twitter links to your blog and like, _your words_ , there’s so _beautiful_ , I could help but write them into a song—”

“You…wrote a song using my incoherent, nonsensical bullshit?”

Pete’s face was unreadable. Patrick had no idea what was going through the other man’s head, but he nodded and said, “it wasn’t nonsense, not once I figured out the melody. Suddenly it all made sense? And I couldn’t stop.”

The last thing Patrick expected was for Pete to completely _drop_ his delivery bag – thank god Patrick only ordered a burger and a dessert because he was certain that soup would certainly have burst open and spilled inside the bag – and grab Patrick’s arms, pushing him directly into the wall beside his door inside the house, and kissing him as though his life depended on it. Patrick couldn’t move his arms, but he was able to reach out far enough with his hands to brush them over Pete’s hips as he kissed back. The delivery man seemed desperate this time, like Patrick was an addiction, but Patrick couldn’t blame him in the least.

Because that’s how Patrick felt about Pete already.

“You made my words into music,” Pete breathed out when his mouth left Patrick’s. “You made my words _make sense_.”

“Yeah? I guess, I mean, they made sense to me, anyway—”

“Patrick, can I take you out sometime? Please?” Pete was looking at him as though Patrick held all the answers to life and that he was afraid one wrong answer could ruin it. Patrick knew that fear all too well. He was glad that he knew exactly what Pete wanted to hear _and_ that it was exactly what Patrick wanted to say to him, too — sometimes things work out well like that. When Patrick hadn’t responded, Pete continued. “On an actual date?”

Patrick nodded. “Of course I’ll go out with you!” he exclaimed. “I would love nothing more.”

Pete’s grin took up his entire face as he placed a soft kiss on Patrick’s lips. “Thank you, thank you, thank—”

“Just one thing,” the shorter man requested while he held up a finger as far as he could, Pete’s hands still grasping his upper arms.

“Anything, anything you want, just name it.”

“I don’t like soup.”

The delivery man laughed in response and shook his head. “Patrick Stump, I will _never_ make you eat soup again, I promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me! If you want, that is — I'm **padawanryan** on [Tumblr](http://padawanryan.tumblr.com), [Twitter](http://www.twitter.com/PadawanRyan), and [Instagram](http://www.instagram.com/padawanryan/). ✌️


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